


Breaking Through the Atmosphere (Things are Pretty Good From Here)

by orphan_account



Series: the rain saga [3]
Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rain, Tim Speedle has ADHD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Speedle, rain, and Eric.





	Breaking Through the Atmosphere (Things are Pretty Good From Here)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why Harry Style's [Sign of the Times](https://youtu.be/qN4ooNx77u0) sounds like such a rainy-day song, but it does, and this fic insisted that it needed a title from it, so here we are.
> 
> This story has been updated (2019-11-02) to reflect the growing backstory for Speed that I'm developing.

All this fucking rain.

He watches as a torrent of water splashes up from under the passenger-side wheels, the truck veering slightly left with the force, as they speed through a puddle more lake than anything pooling at the curbside.

Not that he hadn't gotten his fair share of it in New York, but there always seems to be so much more of it here. There are weeks in the summer, like this one, where hardly a day seems to go by without the sky dumping at least a little bit of rain on them—and sometimes a lot more than that. It's the warm air off the Gulf, he thinks he's read somewhere: prime rain-making conditions.

Doesn't mean he has to like it.

Though moving to South Florida hasn't been without its perks. The man in the driver's seat next to him is one of them. He'd never have met the Miami native if he'd never moved to St Petersburg, if he'd never followed a friend into going through the Police Academy there—more so that he'd have a direction in life than out of any real desire to be a cop. If circumstances hadn't brought them both to the Miami-Dade Crime Lab.

He doesn't know what his life would be like now if he'd never met Eric Delko, never had this easy comradery and affection between them that was rarely so natural with anyone else. And he doesn't want to find out now, after the fact. He already has, once—it's what sent him down here. Maybe he'd move to California. Or England.

"You all right?" Eric asks, darting a glance at him out of the corner of his eye. "You're awful quiet."

Speedle blinks, embarrassed that he's been caught staring. "You know I hate the rain," he says, shifting to look straight out the windshield again. After a moment, he adds, "If I forget the umbrella in the truck again, you can hit me with it."

Eric raises an eyebrow—or maybe both; Speed can't tell from this vantage. "With the truck or the umbrella?"

"Either."

Eric laughs at that, but doesn't say anything else.

Lips quirking, Speedle lets his gaze linger on his friend for a moment longer before turning his attention ahead of them, watching the dark, waterlogged streets pass by them; the heavy pattering of rain against the windshield; the steady, lulling back-and-forth of the wipers. And if he lets his gaze stray back to Eric now and then, watching him a little longer, a little more closely, a little more fondly than a strictly-friend maybe should, he knows the man won't call him on it again.


End file.
